Disclaimer: Lihau does not own the Teen Titans or any related characters or objects. Believe me. If she did, you'd know.

The Wrath of Batman

or

Falling: An Unfortunately Very True Story

PART TWO

By Kid Flash

I forget exactly who, but some random supervillain had been making especially enthusiastic threats to the security of the JLA Satellite lately. Because of this, the Flash was spending the night on the Satellite and, since I was still overly excited to spend time in outer space, I'd been allowed to stay with him.

So there we were in our quarters. The Flash was napping in his bed and I was sound asleep in mine, which was given a bit of privacy by a few partitions that had been set up upon my becoming an official superhero sidekick. It's still set up like that to this day and, not to brag, but it's totally awesome to have your own private space on a satellite.

It was probably about one in the morning when I heard someone whispering, "Hey. Hey, wake up."

Still kinda drowsy, I think I probably just mumbled and rolled over.

At that point, the voice seemed to think it was safe to change from "hey, wake up" to "yo, lightning breath".

Bad judgment on their part. Whoever it was got a fistful in the nose.

Whoever it was also must have had good self-control, because he—I'd determined that it was a "he" by this time—didn't exactly yell. He just hissed, "Owwww…!"

Now totally awake, I sat up and whispered, "Oh. It's you. Whaddya want?"

"If you think I'm gonna help you after you just socked me in the nose, you're nuts!" growled Speedy, one gloved hand massaging the sore area of his face.

"Well, you called me 'lightning breath'," I replied. "C'mon—we'd better talk outside or we'll wake up Flash."

The archer harrumphed but led the way to the hall.

I like that word. "Harrumph". Especially when you roll the R. "Harrrrrrrrrumph"!

Um, anyway. Once in the hallway, Speedy stated, "I was going to offer my services."

"What services? Being an idiot? Thanks, I don't need that."

Speedy made like he was going to punch me, but held back and said, "I meant that I was gonna help you not get killed by Batman!"

"…You were?"

"Yeah! But since you obviously don't want my help…"

"Wait-no-I-want-your-help-actu'lly-I-want-anyone's-help-but-you're-better-than-no-one-even-if-you're-really-mean-sometimes-so—!"

He interrupted, "I can't understand a word you're saying!"

"I said, I'll take any help I can get." Okay, stretching the truth a little bit there, but it was better than having two people targeting me for murder.

A little shifty-eyed insect named "Suspicion" landed on my shoulder just then, prompting me to ask, "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why'd you offer to help me?"

"Hey, maybe I just feel like being nice," suggested the Californian.

"Oh, suuuure. There's gotta be something in it for you."

Rolling his eyes, Speedy said, "Look. I know you're really scared that Batman is gonna kill you and, since I know you'd do the same for me, I wanna help you stay alive." He grinned and admitted, "Hey, Batman creeps me out, too."

What I did next does not in any way, shape, or form represent what I would do now. Please keep that in mind.

I hugged Speedy and exclaimed, "Thankyouthankyouthankyou!"

Then I realized what I was doing and sprang about ten feet back. At the same time as I was springing back, the archer screeched, "Get offa me!" A few seconds after, he choked out, "Never do that again!"

"I won't!" I managed to return fervently. "And if you tell anybody I hugged you, I'll punch your nose again!"

"Fine!" Speedy shot back.

"Good!"

We work so well together.